A PLANTAGENET AND THE TUDORS.
At the opening of the year 1461, a princely personage, of graceful
figure and distinguished air, rather more than twenty years of age,
and rather more than six feet in height, might have been seen moving
about the city of Gloucester, whose quiet streets, with old projecting
houses, and whose Gothic cathedral, with stained oriel window and lofty
tower, have little changed in aspect since that period. The youthful
stranger, who was wonderfully handsome, had golden hair flowing
straight to his shoulders, a long oval countenance, a rich but clear
and delicate complexion, broad shoulders, and a form almost faultless.
Perhaps his eye roved with too eager admiration after the fair damsels
who happened to cross his path; but it was not for want of more serious
subjects with which to occupy his attention; for the tall, handsome
youth was Edward Plantagenet, Earl of March; and he had been sent to
the Welsh Marches to recruit soldiers to fight the battles of the White
Rose.
Edward of York was a native of Rouen. In that city he was born in 1441,
while his father ruled Normandy. At an early age, however, he was
brought to England, to be educated in Ludlow Castle, under the auspices
of Sir Richard Croft, a warlike Marchman, who had married a widow of
one of the Mortimers. Under the auspices of Croft and of his spouse,
who, at Ludlow, was known as "The Lady Governess," Edward grew up a
handsome boy, and was, from the place of his birth, called "The Rose of
Rouen," as his mother had been called "The Rose of Raby." Early plunged
into the wars of the Roses, the heir of York never acquired any thing
like learning, but became a warrior of experience in his teens; and,
when at Northampton, bearing his father's banner, he exhibited a spirit
which inspired the partisans of York with high hopes.
When Edward received intelligence that, on Wakefield Green, his father,
the Duke of York, had fallen in battle against Margaret of Anjou, and
that his brother, the Earl of Rutland, had been barbarously murdered by
Lord Clifford, the prince, in the spirit of that age, vowed vengeance,
and applied himself with energy to execute his vow. Doubtless, other
objects than mere revenge presented themselves to his imagination. As
the grandson of Anne Mortimer, he was the legitimate heir of England's
kings; and he had not, during his brief career, shown any of that
political moderation which had prevented his father plucking the crown
from the feeble Henry.
The recruiting expedition on which Edward had gone, accompanied by a
gallant squire, named William Hastings, said to derive his descent,
through knights and nobles, from one of the famous sea kings, was,
at first, much less successful than anticipated. The Marchmen seemed
disinclined to stir in a dynastic quarrel which they did not quite
understand. But a report that York had fallen in battle, and that
Rutland had been murdered in cold blood, produced a sudden change. Men
who before appeared careless about taking up arms rushed to the Yorkist
standard; and the retainers of the house of Mortimer, on hearing that
their valiant lord was slain, appeared, with sad hearts and stern
brows, demanding to be led against the murderers.
Edward was already, in imagination, a conqueror. After visiting
Shrewsbury, and other towns on the Severn, he found himself at the
head of twenty-three thousand men, ready to avenge his father's fall,
and vindicate his own rights. At the head of this force he took his
way toward London, trusting to unite with Warwick, and, at one blow,
crush the power of the fierce Anjouite ere she reached the capital. An
unexpected circumstance prevented Edward's hope from being so speedily
realized.
Among the Welsh soldiers who fought at Agincourt, and assisted in
repelling the furious charge of the Duke of Alençon, was Owen Tudor,
the son of a brewer at Beaumaris. In recognition of his courage,
Owen was named a squire of the body to the hero of that day, and, a
few years later, became clerk of the wardrobe to the hero's widow.
It happened that Owen, who was a handsome man, pleased the eye of
Katherine de Valois; and one day, when he stumbled over her dress,
while dancing for the diversion of the court, she excused the
awkwardness with a readiness which first gave her ladies a suspicion
that she was not altogether insensible to his manly beauty. As time
passed on, Katherine united her fate with his; and, in secret, she
became the mother of several children.
When the sacrifice which the widowed queen had made became known, shame
and grief carried her to the grave; and Humphrey of Gloucester, then
Protector, sent Owen to the Tower. He afterward regained his liberty,
but without being acknowledged by the young king as a father-in-law.
Indeed, of a marriage between the Welsh soldier and the daughter of a
Valois and widow of a Plantagenet no evidence exists; but when Edmund
and Jasper, the sons of Katherine, grew up, Henry gave to one the
Earldom of Richmond, and to the other that of Pembroke. Richmond died
about the time when the wars of the Roses commenced. Pembroke lived to
enact a conspicuous part in the long and sanguinary struggle.
When the Lancastrian army, flushed with victory, was advancing from
Wakefield toward London, Margaret of Anjou, hearing that Edward of York
was on the Marches of Wales, resolved to send a force under Jasper
Tudor to intercept him; and Jasper, proud of the commission, undertook
to bring the young Plantagenet, dead or alive, to her feet. With this
view he persuaded his father to take part in the adventure, and Owen
Tudor once more drew the sword which, in years gone by, he had wielded
for the House of Lancaster.
Edward was on his march toward London when he heard that Jasper and
other Welshmen were on his track. The prince was startled; but the
idea of an heir of the blood and name of the great Edwards flying
before Owen Tudor and his son was not pleasant; and, moreover, it was
impolitic to place himself between two Lancastrian armies. Considering
these circumstances, Edward turned upon his pursuers, and met them at
Mortimer's Cross, in the neighborhood of Hereford.
It was the morning of the 2d of February--Candlemas Day--and Edward was
arraying his men for the encounter, when he perceived that the "orb of
day" appeared like three suns, which all joined together as he looked.
In those days the appearance of three suns in the sky was regarded as
a strange prodigy; and Edward either believed, or affected to believe,
that the phenomenon was an omen of good fortune. Encouraging his
soldiers with the hope of victory, he set fiercely upon the enemy.
The Tudors, whose heads had been turned by unmerited prosperity, were
by no means prepared for defeat. Owen, with whom a queen-dowager had
united her fate, and Jasper, on whom a king had conferred an earldom,
were too much intoxicated to perceive the danger of giving chase to the
heir of the Plantagenets. Not till Edward turned savagely to bay did
they perceive that, instead of starting a hare, they had roused a lion.
At length the armies joined battle, and a fierce conflict took place.
Edward, exhibiting that skill which afterward humbled the most potent
of England's barons, saw thousands of his foes hurled to the ground;
and Jasper, forgetful of his heraldic precept, that death is better
than disgrace, left his followers to their fate and fled from the
field. Owen, however, declined to follow his son's example. He had
fought at Agincourt, he remembered, and had not learned to fly. His
courage did not save the Welsh adherents of Lancaster from defeat; and,
in spite of his efforts, he was taken prisoner with David Lloyd, Morgan
ap Reuther, and other Welshmen.
Edward had now a golden opportunity, by sparing the vanquished, of
setting a great example to his adversaries. But the use which Margaret
had made of her victory at Wakefield could not be forgotten; and it
seemed to be understood that henceforth no quarter was to be given in
the Wars of the Roses. Accordingly, Owen and his friends were conveyed
to Hereford, and executed in the market-place. The old Agincourt
soldier was buried in the chapel of the Grey Friars' Church; but no
monument was erected by his regal descendants in memory of the Celtic
hero whose lucky stumble over a royal widow's robes resulted in his
sept exchanging the obscurity of Beaumaris for the splendor of Windsor.